Tour Guide

I stood on the Royal Mile, a three deep crush of Italians in front forcing the tourist hordes to dodge left and right off the pavement. I had to speak loud and I was making up trash about sheep's intestines and Jekyll & Hyde and tenement buildings that housed impossible numbers of people. The boys spat long white streaks over the Heart of Midlothian for luck; at the castle I gave up, beaten by a man in face paint and a kilt. It was one of the most excruciatingly embarrassing experiences of my life, yet somehow strangely fun.